


"I'm ah, I'm not gay."

by Navyblueyoucallmesexy



Category: Doctor Who, Supernatural, Torchwood
Genre: Bathroom Fun, Bisexual Dean, Closet!Dean, Clueless Dean Winchester, Crossover, Dean blushing, Grinding, Hand Jobs, Jack being Jack, Jack is a Little Shit, Jack is a charming little shit, Jack will fuck anything, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Nobody comes, Superwho, cock blocker Sam Winchester, sexualities??, superwholock is life, totally-Hetero-Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-11 00:37:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7868254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Navyblueyoucallmesexy/pseuds/Navyblueyoucallmesexy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Wrong team." He smirked, turning back to his stool.</p><p>"I'm on everybody's team."</p><p> </p><p>Captain Jack Harkness is helping UNIT with some weird cases that keep popping up all over the states and bumps into a Winchester in a dive bar, because where else would Dean be on a Tuesday afternoon?</p>
            </blockquote>





	"I'm ah, I'm not gay."

 

He was undeniably hot. The kind of hot that made George Clooney look like a freaking Zygon (Not that Zygons were a bad lot, those big red sucker things are surprisingly satisfying). For a moment, Jack considered whether this was what normal people thought when they looked at him. Probably.

Mr Green Eyes lifted a hand and signalled the barkeep for another drink, eyes flitting across the room. They landed on a small, tan, dark haired girl. She was cute, lots of long, lush hair and a rack that could knock a guy out.

The guy next to her, a beefcake worthy of the name, placed his hand on her thigh and traced the inside hem of her jeans. Mr Green Eyes mumbled something to himself and stared back down at his drink.

 _Oh, on the prowl are we?_ Jack thought, a grin sliding across his face. "Hard day?" He said with a quirk of his lips.

Mr Green Eyes sighed and rubbed at his face, not bothering to look up at Jack. "Yeah, somethin' like that." He mumbled.

"I'd recommend the blonde." Jack said, motioning his head towards a girl on the far right, a beer in her hand as she laughed with some guys at the pool table. "Suzie." Suzie Edwards, college girl with a kid sister, part time job at the Cheesecake Factory and the flexibly of an Olympic gymnast.

He'd only been here a few days but Jack sure had made himself well acquainted with the locals.

While Jack had been reminiscing the fun times of his previous night with Suzie (and the subsequent Retcon), Mr Green Eyes had finally glanced up from his glass.

His eyes narrowed at Jack and did a full sweep of him. Jack let him look. "Suzie?"

"Yeah, Suzie. The blonde by the pool table." He replied with a knowing grin. Maybe it was the haircut, the jawline, or simply his perfected Blue steel, but something about Jack made people dumb. They forget their train of thought. Drop stuff. Drool a little.

Mr Green Eyes was no exception. His mind was so empty, Jack was sure he saw tumbleweed blow by behind his eyes. "Right." He nodded stiffly, looking over at her before flicking those little green orbs back at him. He frowned a little and cleared his throat before turning back to his drink. "I don't need any.. Uh, recommendations." He sniffed and gulped half his glass down fast. Jack'd be lying if he said it didn't give him an instant semi. "I'll just wait it out. Thanks though. Weird, but thanks." He muttered.

"Wait what out?" Jack asked after a pause, genuinely curious.

Green Eyes shrugged. "A chick." He played with the glass in his hands. "Someone will make a move on me eventually."

Damn if the boy wasn't right.

Jack burst out laughing and decided sex on or off the table, he wanted to get to know this boy (it was so on the table). He motioned for a couple more drinks.

"Jack, Jack Harkness." He introduced himself, eagerly anticipating Green Eyes' name. What? He couldn't very well scream Green Eyes when he came, could he?

"Dean." He replied with a small smile, clearly pleased he'd tickled Jack, even if he wasn't sure how. "Nice t' meet you Harkness."

Dean. Huh. Jack hadn't kissed a Dean since 1993.

"You too, Dean." He smiled, taking a swig of his drink. "Very nice."

Dean sent him a puzzled look but Jack just focussed on the crappy TV in the corner playing some news footage. He could feel Deans eyes though. Watching him closer, in more detail. "Hey, what's up with the coat?" Dean asked, "It's like a freaking furnace in here, aren't you melting?"

Jack shrugged. The greatcoat was his thing, he didn't really take it off unless he was at base. Anyway, he looked great in it so why should he? Then again, if Dean was eying him up trying to see what was under all that grey wool then who was Jack to deny him? He slipped it off and pushed it across the back of his chair when -

"Braces? Really? Who are you, mafia?" Dean joked, clearly enjoying the sight of Jack in his dark blue shirt and grey slacks.

He hooked his thumbs into the white braces near his waist and pulled them a little. Dean went quiet pretty fast. "It's called style. I wouldn't expect you to get it, your whole outfit looks very lumberjack-raided-Goodwill to me."

"Oi," Dean defended himself quietly, tugging hard on the lapel of his worn leather jacket. "This was my Dads."

"Oh right, hand me downs. I was wrong, you really knocked me down a peg there." Jack replied sarcastically, returning to his drink.

Dean sat with a slack jawed expression for a minute or so before he spoke up again, his brain apparently kicking back into gear. "Style, sure." He smirked. "Yeah I bet Suzie loved it. Did you screw her in them?" Dean probably meant it as a criticism, or a burn. A pretty poor one at that.

But all Jack heard was an interest in his sex life. "Well no. I dunno how you do it but I tend to be naked when I fuck, Dean."

Dean coughed and spluttered a bit before nodding, his eyebrows reaching for his hairline. "Right. Sure. Obviously." He huffed a laugh. Was that a blush creeping onto his freckled cheeks?

Jack grinned again. This guy - Dean - was cute as shit. It looked like he wasn't accustomed to being flustered, but it suited him. The whole self assured attitude seemed to be melting away like an Abzorbaloff with a broken limitation field.

"Sorry, sometimes my mouth gets away from me." Jack smirked, not missing the way Dean glanced at said mouth.

"S'alright." He replied quickly.

"Good."

"Good." Dean copied, Jacks natural charm rendering him incapable of much else. After a pause he asked, "You, ah, had a bad day too? I mean, well look at us." He motioned at the bar.

Jack shrugged, enjoying Deans blundering attempts at conversation. This guy was so deep in the closest he was probably platonically no-homo best mates with Mr. Tumnus. "No more than usual, work is work. I think I find myself here more for the company."

Dean nodded, clearly not getting he line Jack was dropping on him. "Yeah. What d'you do, anyway?"

"Secret service, buddy." Jack grinned, tapping his nose like it was all some secret club he ran out of his backyard. Which, in a way it kinda was. If Cardiff Bay could be considered his backyard. "Sworn to secrecy, have-to-kill-you and all that." He winked. (Yeah, that's right. He winked. Because he's Jack fucking Harkness.)

Dean laughed, "Man, that sounds like one of my lines. Gotta get yourself some better material." Jack didn't reply, he just tilted his had and raised his eyebrows a little. He might have to start being a little more obvious.

"Yeah? What would you say?" Jack asked, leaning forward in his seat. If Jack had owned tits (which he had at one point, but that's not important) they'd have been on full display.

He sighed in reply, "I dunno. I guess sheriff, ranger, journalist, FBI, exterminator, teddy bear doctor."

Jack laughed, his pearly teeth gleaming. "You don't look like any of those things. But I get how you could pull off the law vibe, you look like you've seen a lot of bad stuff."

"Says you."

For a second, Jacks grin faltered. Dean was staring him out, a very serious, dark look on his face and for that one moment Jack wondered if he'd read Dean wrong. Maybe he wasn't as stupid as he looked. Then he looked away and it was gone. Jack blinked and picked his jaw up off the floor, rearranging his face into a sly grin. "Oh, I've seen a lot of things." He mumbled suggestively into his glass, trying to pass it off flirtatiously.

"Right." Dean muttered, disbelieving. Was this boy immune to innuendo? Could be not feel the fuck-me eyes Jack was sending his way? Did he have to drag him into the bathroom or something?

"We should take our drink somewhere else." Jack stated very clearly.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Like where? I already said I'm waiting out for something." God this boy was thick. Jack was a fraction of a minute away from dragging him out into an alley by the lapels of his coat. "Hell, I'm usually the one saying.." Dean frowned, eyeing Jack. His mind was clearly going was past the speed limit in reverse, looking back on all the neon signs he'd missed, pointing him to the hugely obvious conclusion that Jack was hitting on him. "Wait, are you..?" Ah, the penny finally hits the ground.

He didn't finish his sentence, or move for that matter. That was alright, Jack could do the moving for them. Jack threw back what was left of his drink and picked up his coat.

Dean wasn't the kind of guy to take another guy home for the night, Jack instinctively knew that (or maybe it was experience rather than instinct). He most likely had a partner, or a family member or something waiting for him wherever home was tonight, never mind the whole unreasonable gay-straight problems this guy pointlessly faced. Those problems were also why this guy wouldn't walk out and shack up with him in the Jeep. Too public.

Dark bathroom? Perfect for closet-friendly Dean.

Jack pulled Dean to his feet by the tatty leather of his collar. Dean looked a little pissed, but mostly just amused. "Wrong team." He smirked, turning back to his stool.

"I'm on everybody's team." Jack said, catching Dean's elbow and ignoring the confused _whut_ coming from his mouth. In fact Jack ignored every _I'm not - hey - seriously - I don't - dude_ and didn't bother replying until he had him pressed up against the wall of a dank cubicle, his body pressed to Dean's from knee to chest. "What?"

He gulped. Dean genuinely gulped. "I'm ah, I'm not gay."

"I never said you were." Jack smiled, one hand flat against the cubicle wall and the other resting on Dean's neck.

Dean's face twisted into a pathetic attempt of a 'bitch please'. If anything, it fueled Jacks beam. "Then what," Dean said, clearly struggling to breath evenly with such a (stunning) guy pressed so brazenly against him. "exactly," Jack could've stared at that little pink face for days, counted the freckles and traced the wrinkles. "is this?" But he doubted he'd get more than ten minutes with this guy.

"Two parts ego, one part lust?" Jack quipped, stricken between looking into Dean's amazing eyes or watching his lips move. He had a lovely Cupid's bow. Jack leaned in and pressed his lips against it firmly. Yep, they were a nice pair of lips.

If he were further than five millimeters away, Jack would have been able to see Dean's whole face, comically frozen with a sassy comeback stuck on his tongue no doubt. Since he was closer than Pooh to a honey pot, all Jack saw was Dean tremble and wipe his tongue over his bottom lip.

With no complaints (there never were) Jack leaned in again, letting the hand on Deans' neck slide up into his hair, carding through the short spikes.

Slowly but surely, Dean melted into the kiss. He responded to Jack and kissed back, his hands hesitantly coming to rest on his waist.

Hetero Jack's ass.

Dean's tongue darted out along the seam of Jack's lips but as he tried to respond Dean pulled back and pushed Jack away by his shoulders. He wasn't far, but it felt like all the heat had left Jack's body.

"You okay?" Jack asked quietly. Sure, he knew how people ticked and what they wanted before even they knew most of the time, but still. Best to check.

Jack stepped closer and traced his thumb across Dean's eyebrow, moving down to his cheek bone as he waited for a reply. Dean was looking rather constipated until he sighed and all the tension fell out of his body. "Surprisingly, yeah." He said with a growing smile, catching the Captain off guard as he stepped forward into Jack and pressed him hard against the opposite wall.

 _Oh sailor_ , Jack thought, quickly tangling his hands under Dean's shirt as the tall guy roughly smacked his lips against Jacks.

His lips were rough and hot as he fought for dominance against Jack. Jack didn't put up a fight. He let him grind up against his thigh and smiled into his mouth when his rhythm picked up. When Jack realised Dean wasn't going to move further, probably planning on getting off in his pants, Jack took over.

He flipped them so Dean was against the wall again, kissing down his jaw and neck, relishing the scratch of his barely-there shadow as Dean growled low in his throat. He was practically rutting against Jack and the Captain was moving with him and meeting him thrust for thrust.

Jack untucked his shirt from his pants and pushed his hands up inside Dean's top, underneath his jacket.

 _Yes_ , Jack thought as he claimed Deans lips again, muscular with a soft middle. _Perfect. Like me_. He wondered how he'd gotten so lucky. Sliding a hand around the back Jack have his ass a squeeze. Yeah, perfect.

Bringing his hands back around to the front, Jack hesitated. "Can I -?"

A breathless "Fuck yeah," left Deans' lips before he could stop it. But after the initial surprise agreement he seemed okay. "Yeah. Yes." He repeated, bringing his attention to Jacks pants.

They both made record time busting open each other's pants but it was Jack who reached into Dean's underwear first. Dean was holding his breath, Jack could feel it. With his had still snug between the elastic of Dean's underwear and wiry curls, Jack placed kiss on his bottom lip. And another, and another, letting Dean adjust. The tension disappeared from his jaw and he pulled in a gulp of air with a smile.

Jack pushed the elastic waistband down further and held Dean's hard dick in a fist.

Captain Jack Harkness knew how to work a dick - hell he was just skilled at bringing orgasms, wee-wee, hoo-hah or *insert sexual organ here* in general, he'd had a few centuries practice. So it wasn't all that surprising that Dean wasn't lasting long. His fingers tightened in Jack's shirt and hair, lip between his teeth and eyes squeezed shut, panting into Jack's mouth.

It was hot, but he wasn't going to get off like this, rubbing up against Dean's thigh. Nah. He untangled a hand from Dean's neck and pushed his own underwear down, gasping as the cold air hit his dick.

Dean looked far too out of it to reciprocate, his hands busy clenching and unclenching in Jacks hair and shirt, so Jack took them both in his fist, the friction of his hand and Dean thrusting up against him enough to make his head loll onto Dean's shoulder.

Dean groaned quietly, his hips pounding up against Jack harder and he grinned and huffed into the soft leather of his jacket. "That's it, let it -"

_Ramble On, And now's the time, the time is now, to sing my..._

Dean's hips stuttered and came to a halt as the Zeppelin drifted around the small cubicle. He sighed and dropped his head back against the wall. Jack loosened his grip on their cocks and cursed under his breath. They didn't move for a moment, both reluctant to remove themselves from each other.

_.. ten years to the day, Ramble On, Gotta find the queen of all my dreams._

Jack snorted a little at the lyrics as Dean coughed and moved away from Jack, tucking himself back into his pants haphazardly.

"Sorry, I ah, I gotta take this." Jack shrugged, looking down at his own erection as Dean answered the phone. Would it be rude to finish off without him? "Sam, wait - slow down!" Dean whispered into the receiver, "Who? What d'you mean it wasn't the ex wife?" He glanced at Jack, clearly concerned about him over hearing something he shouldn't. "Okay, alright - alright! Where are you?" As Dean paused it was just quiet enough to hear a voice on the other end of the line - and a loud thump. Jack tucked himself away, Dean clearly wasn't staying much longer. Damn Jack knew he wouldn't have long with this Adonis. "Hold on, keep it distracted. I'm on my way."

Dean hung up and stared at Jack for a second, his face apologetic. God he was hot. His freckled cheeks were burning softly in a blush that reached his ears, almost as dark as his lips. His hair was sticking up in everything direction and he was still readjusting his boner.  "Sorry." He mumbled, "I gotta go, I've got a.. A thing."

"It's fine, I understand. Teddy bear doctor emergency." Jack smirked, unlocking the door with one hand and pushing Dean's hair back to its usual neatness with the other.

As the door shut behind Dean's ass Jack sighed. He pushed a hand through his hair and let his forehead touch the bathroom door. With a smile he muttered, "Dean fucking Winchester."

___________________

 

It was a week later and two towns over when Jack ran into Dean Winchester again. And didn't he just look _fine_ in a suit.

"Agent?" Jack called across the crime scene, eyes trained squarely on Winchesters butt.

The scrawny sheriff stumbled over himself as he chased after Jack, his radio held up against his face. "Sir. Sir you can't be here!" He yelled, quickly becoming out of breath. "I told you this is a private investigation-"

Jack stopped and turned, giving the sheriff his best I'm-The-Boss look that he'd perfected over the years. It also happened to look a lot like his Who's-Your-Daddy face. Potato, potato. Either way the small sheriff cowered a little. "And I told you I'm with UNIT."

The sheriff nodded, stiffly, clearly intimidated.

Switching threatening for playful, Jack winked and ducked under the police tape between himself and the lovely Green Eyes and his partner. Oh, and the body. The dead one, not Dean's.

"Dean." Jack called from a safe distance, half expecting Dean's inner "hetero"  to pound him as soon as he realised who was behind him.

Dean turned around and blinked, repeatedly. "... You're ..." _Beautiful? Charming? Simply astounding?_ Jack thought, filling in the gaps for Dean.

"Harkness." He said finally.

"Yeah." Dean said on a sigh. Jack grinned, relishing the dumb look on his gorgeous face. After a (slightly longer than comfortable) pause, he cleared his throat and looked up at the puzzled face of his partner and back at Jack. "I'm sorry but this is a crime scene. Me and my partner here are agents and we're going to need you to move along."

"Hello to you too Dean." Jack smiled, cutting past Dean and his tall partner (who looked throughly baffled) to get a good look at the body on the side of the road. "FBI, yeah. You said. Didn't you say something about teddy bear doctors too?" He teased.

"Look buddy," Dean mumbled, placing a hand on Jacks elbow and pulling him back. _Buddy?_ "There's a serious thing going on round here and you need to get lost before-"

Jack rolled his eyes and pulled his ID from the inside pocket of his greatcoat. Dean narrowed his eyes at the badge.

"What the hell is UNIT?"

Jack repressed a laugh as he folded his ID away, tucking it safe next to the anti-Weevil clamps and Jacks trusty Webley Mk. IV. Jack was about to ignore him and turn back to the body when Dean's partner spoke up.

"Wait - UNIT?"

He was tall, muscular and his chestnut hair almost brushed his wide shoulders. Gwen would've swooned, called him hench or something. Jack just relaxed his posture and let his eyes travel down the guys body. "Who's your friend, Dean?"

Dean frowned and looked between Jack and Sam like he was watching a tennis match. A tennis match he didn't agree with.

"That's the Unified Intelligence Taskforce, right?" Sam said, impressing Jack a little and distracting him from Dean's cute jealous face. "Dean d'you know this guy?"

"Brains and brawn, aren't you the whole package." Jack smirked, raising his eyebrows.

"This is my little brother Sam." Dean burst, his face a little red. "Sam, this is Jack Harkness. I, uh, I met him at a dive." Okay scratch that, bright red.

"Nice to meet you, I guess. I'm Sam Winchester." Gigantor said, extending his hand. A big hand. _You know what they say._

"Very nice." Jack clasped Sam's hand tightly and shook it solidly. " _Little_ brother?" He said with a grin, still holding Sam's hand. "I bet there's nothing little about you, big -"

"Don't."

Dean looked mortified, his green eyes burning a crater in Jacks head. Getting the sudden feeling he would get punched if he lay another hand on the younger hunk of a Winchester, Jack let Sam's hand slip from his own. "What? I was only -"

"Just don't."

 

 

 

 


End file.
